


Be Good

by bendy_quill



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27854690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendy_quill/pseuds/bendy_quill
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Be Good

Taste, smell, hear, _creak_ \--

Fire roars in the pit and burns every log to cinders. Hearty smoke floods his nostrils and roils in his brain for one minute before it even reaches his lungs. Loud crackle of flames has him shivering--she forbade all royal trappings the minute she locked the door behind her. 

Breathe, shiver, cool, _creak_ \--

Leicester Cortana in the teapot, wet leaves still swimming in the cups. Powerful notes stick to the roof of his mouth and mingle with the salt gathering on the tip of his tongue with every swipe along plump lips. There’s hair up top--she bet he would look interesting with a mustache and he can’t remember a single time he read between a series of carefully penned lines so quickly.  
“Oh, that’s...”

Her feet shuffle and her thigh flexes beneath his cheek. A thumb grazes the thick hairs resting above his top lip, cinnamon still clings to her skin and he inhales.

Hot, and then cold. Slowly. A warm finger traces the scar on her thigh and dips into the crease of her knee. He tries coaxing her leg out further. Her heels root to the floor and he clicks his tongue. 

“None of that.”

A yelp falls out of his mouth when a rough tug at his hair pulls him away--painful reminder. He knows the rules. 

Unyielding green eyes bore into his soul. Long lashes frame cold indifference. Full lips purse and his entire mouth burns with the memory of the last time he felt that mouth on his. A free hand curls and slowly rakes through the thick hair on his chest. Even in a dress shirt and pants, her gaze lays him completely bare. 

“I’m not repeating myself. You promised you’d be good for me.”

He did. He remembers. 

Before he unravels himself from heavy threads chock full of compartments--poisons, darts, knives, and smoke pellets--

Before he realizes she slipped in behind him until her hands covered his and he let his fall away while she took it upon herself to peel him out of the literal facade he wears on his skin--

Before he collapses at her feet in his silk shirt and trousers--

He looks up at her, at the white slip dress delicately clinging to her body and unhinged desire swirling within verdant depths, and he utters her name before his promise falls from his lips. 

She cards powerful fingers through his hair, down his cheek, swipes a thumb over his bottom lip, and forces his head up with fingertips curling under his chin and nails scratching his beard. 

“You’ll stay here as long as it takes. I’d rather not sit here for the entire night but I will. Trust me, I _absolutely_ will.” She leans so close he can smell the Cortana on her lips--smell her favorite perfume clinging to her chest and neck. He swallows hard. “Hm? Speak, beloved.”

 _Creak_. He has a hand around her ankle, smooth leather along the top and notches on the heel from years of loving wear. His thumb follows the dips and grooves from arch to toe. Pure ebony with golden trim woven into the thick leather. She shifts back and slowly crosses her legs, right over left, and firmly plants her foot on his thigh. 

He’s left her waiting. 

“A little longer, then. You keep making this harder for yourself.” She says it like an admonishment but the smirk that graces her lips makes it clear how much fun she’s having.

She leans back in her chair and pulls him with her. His head rests in her lap, brown thighs cradling him and keeping him safe. Her fingers card through his thick tresses while her other hand plucks her book from the end table next to her chair. 

It starts all over again. Touch, taste, hear, smell--

Callused hands trace the scars from thighs to knees, skin to leather, and loosely wrap around her legs. He takes a breath and closes his eyes.


End file.
